Hidden Secrets
by FeelsLikeConfettiFalling
Summary: Four boys. Four stories. One is bipolar. One has an eating disorder. One is schizophrenic. One cuts himself. Each one has a secret neither one of the others knows about. When their problems get worse and worse, they have no one else in the world to depend on except each other. Can these four boys learn to accept themselves and work together, or will they all end up falling apart?


**I wanted to kind of write this first chapter so you'd get a feeling of what their lives are like and what's going to happen. I had a lot of trouble thinking of a title, so it might change. Anyway, enjoy!**

_James_  
My temper has gotten so out of hand lately sometimes I just think I can't handle it anymore. Sometimes, I'll feel as though I'm invincible, like I have the whole world in my hands, like I can do anything. I'll feel kind, generous, like I can do anything and help anyone. Then there are times when I feel angry, furious with everyone, violent even, and at the same time completely hopeless, like I'm lost somewhere in a dark place and I can't get out. I often feel like I'm trapped in a cage, and I claw and claw at the walls to get out and I scream and scream but nobody hears me and I think to myself if life is really worth living, if I should just off myself and please everyone...myself the most. Then the very next split second I'm back to my usual, happy self, with not a care in the world except for the satisfaction I feel for myself.

Is this normal?

_Carlos_  
I always wanted to be perfect, always wanted to be on top. When I started this band with my friends, I never expected to have thousands, if not millions, of girls screaming my name, calling for me, wanting me more than anything. I smile to myself knowing they all love me, appreciate me, think I'm worthy of everything. But deep down inside I can't help but feel hopeless, useless, imperfect. I look at my body and at everyone else and can't help but feel like I'm on the bottom, like everyone else, who are as perfect as people come, look down on me and laugh at everything that's wrong with me and my body. With each bite of food I force down my throat, it all eventually comes back up and with each hour I spend in exercise striving to achieve that perfect body I destine to have I can't stop thinking about how disgusting and worthless I am, about how I won't stop until I achieve the perfection I want.

Is this normal?

_Logan_  
Nobody ever liked me, we all know that. I've always been the least favorite, least desirable. "My money was on Logan!" They'd say. But not for me to win something or other, but for me to be kicked out of a band. That was long ago, but I can still hear the words ringing through my ears like it was yesterday. I can still hear all the hateful words people have ever said to me ever since I was a child, all the things people would do to me, I can still feel them all. I can still feel those hands pushing me and shoving me into and against things, and I can still hear those words being shoved down my throat day after day YOU ARE NOT WORTH IT, and with each bite that sharp, metal blade takes to my skin I play their words over and over again in my head, reminding myself why I bleed. I bleed to feel alive, alive like I never have been before.

Is this normal?

_Kendall_

They're watching me, I know they are. There are shadows behind every corner, voices in every area of my room. There are people who follow me, people dressed in large, dark coats with arms violently outstretched, their claws coming from their fingertips sharp like razor blades, all of them out to get me. I see animals and monsters and strange beings that hide in the dark shadows of the world and I can see them all there, waiting to grab me the minute I let my guard down. I look at them and I start to run, and their voices, those dark, dark voices, that call my name echo loudly through my ears until I can't take it anymore. I scream and I scream but they only get louder and just as instantly as they arrive, they are gone, as well as the shadowy figures and dark entities that are scattered across this earth. I blink my eyes and wonder if they were really there or if they were just apart of my imagination. No...they were there, I saw them, I heard them, I felt them.

Is this normal?

_James' journal entry-March 2nd, 2014_  
_I can't believe I am doing this. Only fucking little girls keep journal entries...but for some reason I am compelled to do so as well. Some sort of voice or whatever told me, and I don't know why but I listened. It's weird. But anyway, I had to get my feelings down, because if I don't tell someone I'll go crazy. Well, crazier than I already am, anyway. Before I start, I have to say I can't stop shaking. I don't know why, but all of a sudden I started to shake. High anxiety rose inside of me and I seemed to have lost all control over my own body. I hate when this happens, it really scares me. One minute I'm fine and then the next, I'm not. I hate it, I can't live like this. I don't know what it is or where it came from, but I can't live with it. I read somewhere it's called Bipolar disorder or something, but you can't trust the internet these days. You can't really trust anyone these days._

_ Anyway, I been thinking about something lately. I got all these things wrong with me, I am so emotional and stressed out sometimes I just can't take it. I can't live with being happy and cheerful one minute than downright depressed the next. I know I've said this before, but maybe ending my own life sounds about right. I know, I know, I've tried suicide before and thought about it, but I'm too chicken to ever do it. I was scared, alright? I was scared, I'll admit it, and I still kinda am, but to tell you the truth, I don't know how much more of this I can take. Maybe I should just-_

"Hey James, whatcha up to?"

I slam my notebook shut and toss it under the bed. I push my hair back and act like I wasn't doing anything. "Um, nothing." I reply as cooly as I possibly can. If there'sone thing I learned from that damn Frozen movie Katie made me watch, it's to conceal and not to feel. I've gotten pretty good at that, over the years.

"Oh." Kendall says. He enters our shared bedroom and sits down on the bed next to me, propping his elbows on his knees and setting his head in his hands. He looks totally bored right now, yet at the same time he looks...anxious, like he's waiting for something. I see his leg bouncing and his hands trembling, and he's got this hawk-like look in his eyes, his eyes are darting around the room sort of, kind of like something is there and he's ready to sprint out the door at any second.

"Is there a problem, bro?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow. He looks at me with such a panic hat it almost makes even me scared, but that panic soon turns to a smile and he shakes his head.

"Nah." He replies, taking a deep breath. "It's just an off day for me, that's all."

"Ah."

I can't help but feel he is lying. It's almost like he's hiding something from me, but I push that thought aside and scoot further off the bed-the awkward tension in the room surely has risen.

"I was thinking about heading off to the pool, wanna come with?" I ask, standing up and grabbing my towel off my night stand. He sort of hesitates for a moment, biting at his nails in a nervous tense. His eyes dart to the corner of the room and he seems to be staring at something on the ceiling, something that's not even there. I stare up at whatever it is that's up there and he immediately claps his hands and jumps up.

"Ok." He says. "Let's go."

_Kendall_  
That couldn't have ended more horribly. I had to get away, had to confide in someone yet at the same time make it seem like nothing was out of the ordinary, so I went to James. James always understands me, he seems to know what's right and wrong. Granted he does have these violent modd swings sometimes, but I kinda just been writing them off. We all have our faults, and if he can overlook mine I can overlook his.

We head out of our room and head downstairs. Going to the pool seems like a good idea. Maybe it'll keep all these, these...demons...away from me. Maybe if Carlos and Logan come too I'll feel more comfortable, secure. But lately, Carlos and Logan refuse to go anywhere near the pool. I don't know why, neither James or I know, but we don't pay much attention to it and still give them the offer every time we head down there.

"Carlos, Logan." I say as James and I enter the living room. The two of them are sitting on the couch together, playing a video game. I notice Logan is whereing his hoodie again, which I don't understand why because it's like, a million degrees out, but I shake it off and continue on.

"James and I are on our way down to the pool. Want to join us?"

_Logan_

I look at them and at Carlos in hesitation. I want to, I really want to, nothing would make me happier than to join them, but to uncover myself and reveal all the dark secrets I have hidden underneath these clothes would be too much.

"No." I simply reply, turning back to the TV. "I mean, no thanks, I, uh, I'm really not feeling too well today. I think I'm coming down with a fever." I rub my head and give them an uncomfortable look, to make it look more real. I don't think it could've gone worse, but they all seemed to buy it. James shrugged his shoulders and simply replied with an 'Ok' before turning to Carlos.

"Carlos?" He asked. I noticed the younger Latino began to tremble. He drummed his fingers against the couch in a nervous fashion and bit his bottom lip.

"Maybe later." He replied. "I was thinking about heading off to the gym for a little bit when we're finished here."

"Ok then." James replies. "If either of you change your minds, you know where to find us." They then leave, leaving me and Carlos alone once again.

Anxiety suddenly fills me. Every day, every time they ask me to do something and I can't, all because of what I'm doing to myself. I'm no good friend, I'm no good at all, just a useless, worthless piece of trash that has no greater purpose but to be thrown away. I feel dead inside, and the sinking feeling in my chest grows worse and worse until finally I just can't take it. I need something, something small and sharp and metal and calming and relaxing and I need it now I need it i need it I need it I need it I...

_Carlos_

"I got to go." Logan says, tossing his controller on the table. He quickly gets up and begins running away, upstairs to his room. "We'll finish later." He says nothing else. He vanishes without a trace.

I stare at the paused game screen for the longest time. Hunger rises inside of me like a tornado ripping through a trailer park, and the fridge is so opening, welcoming, inviting, but I destroy those thoughts and rush to the bathroom, leaving the game console on and the snacks on the table. I ate way too much, way too much, I know I did. I need to get rid of it, need to rid myself of the impurities and strive for the perfection I so desperately crave.

I empty all my contents from my stomach into the toilet, and when I'm finished I wash my hands and face like nothing ever happened. I kept the water in the shower running so nobody will notice. This has become far too comfortable of a ritual that it just automatically happens now.

I leave the bathroom and grab my gym bag. The scent of spaghetti and garlic bread fill the air and enter my nose, telling me it's o_k just have one bite it won't hurt._

But my thoughts are stronger than that. I have the will power. I'll go to the gym, work everything off, and just tell Mrs. Knight and the guys I ate in the lobby. I'll slap on a fake smile and pretend like nothing is happening.

Like nothing is bothering me.


End file.
